• Stories

    Hana Mikoshi

    There is a ramen shop down the street from our apartment. My husband, Matthew, and I have lived here for about a year. Our Japanese is basic at best and the owner and patron’s English consists only of a few phrases. But after many broken conversations and late-night shochu parties (traditional Japanese liquor), we’ve all created a very special bond.  On one such night, we found ourselves chatting with our friend Yuri. She is from a small town in the mountains in Gifu prefecture where we live. She told us that there was a special festival being held in the town that weekend and asked us if we’d like to…